


Growth

by propheticfire



Series: Viren Week [6]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Food, Growth, M/M, Viren Week (The Dragon Prince), Viren Week 2020, choose your flavor, continuing relationship, could be either if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propheticfire/pseuds/propheticfire
Summary: Viren shares an emotionally intimate and tastefully sweet moment with Aaravos.
Relationships: Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Viren Week [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690708
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	Growth

From his comfortable nest of blankest and cushions in the oversized deck chair, Viren looks out over the railing to the yard beyond. The morning sun streams through the trees in golden streaks, broken periodically by the occasional falling leaf. The light will soon burn off the nighttime chill, but the crispness in the air is refreshing, and Viren lets the blankets slip a little further off his shoulders. He’s still not sure he’s used to April being autumn now, but it’s been six years since he and Aaravos left the big city behind to escape to the countryside in the south of the world. It’s been…peaceful. It’s brought a stillness to his soul that he didn’t even know he was missing.

Aaravos, too, seems changed by the slow pace. Or at least, changed from how Viren used to know him, when they first met. Intense, high-powered, and almost frenetic, Aaravos had seemed to live only for the moment, and in the city those moments never lasted very long. They’d spent a few years like that, feeding off each other’s energy, until it all crashed down around them. Aaravos still lives from moment to moment, but out here, the moments last much longer. Perhaps it’s an effect of his already lengthened lifespan, but Aaravos seems to have an exacting grasp of each passing second while at the same time holding no significance to them whatsoever. Maybe that’s why he’s grown into such an easy companion. There are no stakes out here.

Their relationship, too, has grown into something more. There’s a mutual trust between them, that has built up over the years. And not just the kind of trust directed at each other, but a sort of self-trust: because of Aaravos’ support, Viren trusts in his own actions and his own self-worth. He trusts that he can just _be_. He trusts that he has enough roots now to be able to reach for the sky. And he knows Aaravos feels the same.

At least for now. Aaravos will undoubtedly outlive him.

Still, as he sees Aaravos crest the rise at the edge of their property and begin walking down toward the yard, his white hair catching the sun, his bare chest glittering with a thousand freckles of starlight, Viren thinks it can’t be such a bad thing to grow old next to someone so radiant.

There’s some time yet before Aaravos will reach the deck, so Viren gets up and goes into the house. He fills two mugs with a generous portion of spiced tea from the pot on the counter, and quickly heats them with a whisper of magic. They steam as he returns to the open air to wait for Aaravos.

When Aaravos reaches the house, he takes the proffered tea, and his eyes close in a blissful expression as he sips. “This is perfect,” he sighs. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

They stand there in silence for a moment, arms around each other, drinking their tea and watching the breeze lightly toss leaves across the yard, before Aaravos sets his mug down.

“And now, I have something for you. Come. Put your boots on and follow me.”

“What is it?” Viren asks, retrieving his boots from inside the house and tugging them on. “Is this to do with that project you’ve been working on?”

Not long after they had moved here, Aaravos had begun going for walks in the early morning, before even Viren awoke. One day, he’d come back later than usual, dirt smudged on his hands and arms, a tiny twig embedded in his hair. When Viren had asked him about it, he’d smiled his beguiling, mysterious smile, and said it was “a project”. “Be patient,” his honeyed voice had assured, “all will be revealed in time.”

Aaravos ducks into the house to retrieve a grocery basket, once again smiling that mysterious smile. “Yes. It is ready.”

Some days Aaravos can chatter on for hours, some days he hardly talks at all. This seems like one of those days. As they stride out across the yard, back toward the hill at the edge of their property, the only sounds are the sweet songs of birds in the trees above, the light laughter of the stream that cuts through the grass, and the soft pad of their footsteps. Viren feels almost as though he’s being led to some secret ritual, for all the mystery surrounding this.

As they come closer to the crest of the rise, Viren realizes he doesn’t actually know what’s over it. In all the years they’ve been here, he’s never ventured this far out on this part of their property. Mostly _because_ of Aaravos’ “project”. Curious as he was, he’d wanted to let him have that privacy. Now, as the reach the top of the hill, Viren sees a wide slope of native grasses, bathed in sunlight, and two bushy apple trees, their branches heavy with fruit. Viren is not overly familiar with apple trees, but these look…cultivated. Cared for. As they approach, Viren notices that the grass around them has been carefully trimmed, leaving a space for walking. Is this…?

Aaravos reaches up and plucks an apple from one of the higher branches. Pinkish-red and vibrant, it’s almost as large as his hand. He brings it to his nose and inhales, his eyes closing for a moment.

“A long time ago, someone I…loved very much, gave me a fruit like this.” He examines the apple, running his fingers over the smooth skin. His already quiet tone grows even more hushed. “I have not eaten one of these in centuries. I have not…found anyone worthy of sharing the memory with.”

He looks up at Viren then, and holds out the apple.

“Until now.”

Viren’s heart leaps into his throat. Gently, he takes the apple. His fingers brush against Aaravos’. They’ve been intimate before, but somehow this small touch feels more sacred than all of that. He looks up, into Aaravos’ face. Aaravos’ dark cheeks are flushed darker still, the starlight freckles tinged pink with blush. “Will you get me one?”

Viren reaches into the tree and plucks another apple, just as round, just as vibrant. Again the brushing of their fingers feels more like the sealing of vows than an exchange of food.

“I have grown these trees,” Aaravos says, gazing at the apple Viren has given him, “waiting for the moment when they would be ready to share with you. How fitting, that their first fruits should be ready in time to mark the occasion that many of you hold so dear.”

Viren isn’t quite sure what Aaravos means by that statement, but Aaravos is still speaking.

“I would like to continue celebrating the passing of the years like this, with you, on this particular day, for many years to come. Would you let me do that?”

Suddenly it dawns on Viren. It’s April eleventh.

“Yes. Yes I would like that. Very much.”

Aaravos brings the apple that Viren had given him to his lips, and slowly bites into the flesh. His face transforms into an expression of pure bliss. Viren lifts his apple to his own lips and takes a bite. It’s crisp, sweet, tangy and refreshing. One of the best he’s ever tasted. Aaravos reaches out with his free hand to cup Viren’s cheek, and Viren leans into the touch. When Aaravos bends down to kiss him, it’s sweeter even than the apple. Yes, if every passing of the years were like this, Viren doesn’t think he’ll ever forget this day again.

Aaravos’ breath is warm against his skin as he whispers:

_“Happy birthday, Viren.”_


End file.
